


Game of the Walking Dead

by theatremusicbookworm



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The Walking Dead Fusion, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3879220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatremusicbookworm/pseuds/theatremusicbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead collide!<br/>Heavy leanings toward Carol/Daryl and Jaime/Brienne<br/>Set post season 5 Walking Dead and a mix of TV show GoT and the Book series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

No one had been prepared for the attack. No one could have imagined any number of walkers, no matter how great, could bring down Alexandria’s walls, but in the onslaught that came, only those whom had previously survived, whom had seen this great a number of the dead before could have ever survived.

Carol hadn’t realized how comfortable she had become with Alexandria’s air conditioning. Now, sweating through her tattered, mud-splattered buttondown, she longed for nothing more than her clean, comfortable bedroom in their fallen haven. 

A short ways ahead of her, Daryl was stepping carefully through the undergrowth of the woods, crossbow poised, ready for anything that might give them trouble, be it dead, or living. 

Behind him trailed the lucky survivor of their group. Sam had thankfully been in Carol’s company when the first screams rang out in the street. For the first two days they spent on the run, he’d cried so profusely that Daryl wound up carrying the boy over his shoulder for several miles, until Carol insisted Sam get a hold of himself and carry his own weight. Now, on their third day attempting to out-run the vicious herd that had swept through their town, their small, torn group could scarcely find the strength to walk, let alone speak.

“Needa stop,” Daryl grunted breathlessly, leaning against a tree up ahead. 

Carol only nodded, breathing heavily as she bent and rested her hands on her knees. 

Sam flopped onto the forest floor. Carol found herself studying him. Not once had he complained of hunger or exhaustion. _‘He’s probably still in shock,’_ she thought, rubbing her cheek.

Daryl followed Sam’s lead and sunk to the ground himself, rifling through his pack as he did. “Here,” he grunted, tossing a bag of chips to Sam, and a second to Carol. 

Although her stomach ached for nourishment, she eyed Daryl. “You need to eat too,” she muttered, tossing the bag back. 

He flinched, and just barely caught the bag in his fingertips. “Don’t do this,” he grunted half-heartedly, throwing the bag back, the thing landing unceremoniously at her feet. 

She narrowed her eyes. “You haven’t eaten either. You need to have something, Daryl.”

“I’ll eat later. Just eat ‘em,” he replied gruffly, leaning his head back against the tree, “I’m just tired. I’m fine.” 

With a sigh, Carol stooped to pick up the chips, before crossing past Sam and seating herself by Daryl’s side. “At least split the bag with me.” 

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes flashing over her grim-coated face, before sitting up a little straighter and reaching into the bag. 

With a satisfied smile Carol leaned her head against his shoulder and popped a chip into her mouth. 

***

His face plastered with a grin and a profuse amount of walker blood, Jaime Lannister threw open the door to the sad lean-to shack his wench had found for them for the night. 

“I’ve got dinner,” he stated triumphantly, dropping a possum at Podrick’s feet. 

The boy made a face, but picked up the sad creature. “I’ll start a fire,” he muttered morosely, shuffling past Jaime out of the shack. 

“Be sure to skin it first,” Brienne hollered after him with a smirk, tucking her knife into her bag.

Jaime dropped to the ground beside her. “Miss me?” he asked, flashing her a smile. 

She rolled her eyes, and reached into her bag once more. “You have blood all over your face, Kingslayer.” With that she whipped out a rag and began rubbing at his cheeks. 

“Don’t fuss woman,” Jaime growled, swiping the cloth from her hand. 

Brienne smiled briefly, but the expression was soon wiped from her face as a scuffling was heard outside the shack. Her deep blue eyes locked onto Jaime’s. They both knew the expression well, the look they shared when they knew trouble was coming.

_Walkers._

Like a flash, Brienne was tugging her knife back out of her bag, and Jaime was reaching for his sword, when Pod reappeared in the entryway. Jaime and Brienne exchanged a glance as the boy raised a finger to his lips and signaled for them to follow him. 

Carefully, Jaime and Brienne edged their way out of the shack and followed the boy through the undergrowth. After a moment he signaled for them to stop, and pointed through a shrub. 

Furrowing her brow, Brienne edged closer and peered through the leaves. From the angle he was at behind her Jaime watched her eyes widen, before she signaled for him to come closer as well. As he obeyed, his ears pricked at the sound of human voices, and he hurried his movements. In the clearing visible through the bushes he could make out a child, a young boy, probably only a few years younger than Pod, tiredly emptying what was left of a bag of chips into his mouth. A short ways from him were a man and woman, presumably his parents. The woman was speaking in hushed tones to her husband, her wispy grey hair blowing in the warm summer breeze. The man was nodding seriously, a greasy curtain of dark hair falling into his face. The woman paused briefly, an unreadable expression on her face as she gently brushed the hair out of his eyes. 

The man smirked and muttered something, and as Jaime leaned in closer to hear what he said, a twig snapped beneath his foot. Suddenly the man was on his feet, a crossbow pointed directly at Jaime.

“Come on out now,” the man ordered in a thick, southern drawl. “Ya’ll ain’t walkers if you’re hidin’ in the bushes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will Daryl and his group make of Jaime and Brienne?   
> Margaery and her group have reached Alexandria, or what's left of it.

Daryl pushed Carol behind him as a man stepped out of the bushes, his long, blond hair drawn back in a tangled knot at the back of his head. As he raised his hands in surrender Daryl noted the stump where his right hand should be. 

“I mean no harm, I’m afraid curiosity got the better of me,” the man stated, his voice smooth and charming. 

Sam scrambled to his feet and scurried behind Carol, out of view.

Daryl sneered at the man, and adjusted the position of his crossbow. “Who the fuck are you? Where’s your group?” He felt Carol’s hand on his shoulder but shrugged it off. There was no way he was jeopardizing her safety. He’d lost too much already.

The man’s eyes flickered from Daryl’s face to the bow pointed directly between his eyes. Tilting his head slightly he called over his shoulder. “Brienne, Pod, why don’t you come out and help me here.”

Throwing out his arm to shield Carol from anything that might come out of the bushes, Daryl pressed their small group back further behind him. “Don’t try anythin’ now,” he warned, gripping the crossbow tighter. With that, the bush began to rustle fiercely as a monstrously large woman clambered through it, followed by a mousy looking boy. 

“Jaime, you are really awful under pressure,” the woman muttered to the man, only raising her hands in a mock surrender when Daryl edged closer. The boy made no move, only watching Daryl with wide, but calculating eyes. 

“Well?” Daryl pressed, his finger ready to pull the trigger at the slightest move. 

The woman sighed and dropped her hands. “Look, my friend meant what he said. We don’t mean you any harm-”

“Friends? Is that what we’re calling ourselves nowadays?” the man quipped, flashing the woman a bright smile. 

“I swear, Lannister, if you don’t shut it right now-”

“Lannister?” Carol stepped forward, waving Daryl’s hand away as he tried to push her back again. “You mean like Senator _Tywin_ Lannister?”

The man beamed. “Oh good you’ve heard of Father. I trust an avid supporter?”

Carol crossed her arms and smirked. “Actually I voted against him. I thought you were familiar though. I admit I didn’t recognize you without your sister hanging on your arm.” 

Daryl was lost, but apparently whatever Carol had said had spurned something in the man, as his smile faltered, his gaze dropping to the forest floor.

“Ah yes… I was hoping most of the tabloid articles would go unnoticed what with the apocalypse and all.”

“Look,” the boy stepped forward, Daryl quickly aimed his bow at him instead. The large woman made to move forward, but seemed to think better of it and stepped back once more. Instead the boy raised his hands in surrender once more. “None of that stuff matters anymore,” he said, his eyes finding Daryl’s briefly, before looking to Carol. “The world’s changed. All that matters now is survival. We’ve come to offer you help, but it looks like you’ve got yourselves pretty well handled, so if you don’t mind I think we should just go our separate ways.” 

Carol looked over her shoulder to Daryl. Her expression read that she agreed with the boy, and just as Daryl was about to nod agreement, Sam stumbled forward, falling in at Carol’s side. 

“Wait,” he urged, looking from Carol to the other boy. “Wouldn’t it be better if we all stayed together?” 

Carol furrowed her brow, her hand resting on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, we don’t know these people. You don’t know-”

“There’s strength in numbers. That’s what Mom used to say.”

Carol bit her lip, smoothing the hair on the boy’s head. “Sam…”

“I think the lad’s right,” the man, Lannister, piped up. “Who’s to say how large the next group of walkers might be.” 

“If it’s as big as the last group we’ve seen three more bodies ain’t gonna help much,” Daryl grumbled, his eyes on Carol. 

She wasn’t looking at him though, or even Sam. Instead, she’d found the woman. Her eyes flashed over the tousled straw yellow hair, the dingy gray-blue shirt, down to the manish riding boots, before finding the woman’s ugly, scarred face. “Well,” she muttered, “You haven’t said anything. What do you think?” 

The question seemed to surprise the woman, as if she wasn’t used to being asked her opinion. She pondered a moment, before locking eyes with Carol. “I think your boy’s right. We’re stronger if we stand together.” 

Carol nodded, her hand still resting on Sam’s head, before looking to Daryl once more. “Well?”

Reluctantly he lowered his bow. “It’s probably what Rick would do,” he grunted, his eyes scanning over the new members of their group. “We got some questions for ya’ll first though.” He glanced at Carol with these words. It was only when she nodded her approval that he dropped his bow.

***

Only a few of the houses were still burning when Margaery, Loras and Olenna reached Alexandria. Tears welled in Margaery’s eyes as they paced down the smoke filled streets. It had been their last hope of a safe haven. She jumped as a hand reached up to grip her shoulder, but when she turned she found only Loras. She squinted through the dense smoke behind him. “Where’s grandmother?” 

He jerked his head towards one of the larger houses on the block. “She wanted to see if she could find any supplies in there. Come on.” His hand found hers and gave it a squeeze. “We mustn’t give up hope, sister.” 

She nodded and allowed her brother to lead her back towards the house. When they passed through the open door of the house they found a ransacked library, fresh blood splattered over the spines of books, furniture overturned. A few bodies of the dead lay sprawled over the oriental carpeting. 

“Grandmother,” Loras called quietly. When no reply came, Margaery tugged his hand, ushering him to follow her into the next room. The room was darkened by a set of heavy curtains at the far window.

Loras raised a finger to his lips, before releasing his sister’s arm and crossing the room. 

“Be careful,” she whispered, twisting her hair between her fingers. 

“I’m fine,” he whispered back, reaching the window and taking hold of the drapery. “You needn’t worry so- _Gah!_ ” The curtains were ripped from the wall, sunlight streaming into the room as her brother toppled over, scrambling away from something on the floor.

“Loras!” Margaery’s hand shot to her belt, tugging out a pistol, but before she could make a move a second door to the room burst open, admitting Olenna, her gun already drawn and pointed at whatever lay on the floor. 

“Don’t kill me, please,” a rasping voice begged, making Margaery’s breath hitch. 

Stepping forward, she peered over her grandmother’s shoulder, down at the sad creature that was propped up against the wall beneath the window. It was a woman, probably in her sixties or so. Her finely tailored clothes suggested that she was a woman of power at some point, but the grisly wound at her neck rather dampened that effect.

“Dear,” Olenna murmured softly, almost caringly. “You’re dead already.” She pointed the gun.

“Wait!” Margaery made a grab for her grandmother’s arm, but it was too late. The shot was fired, a perfectly centered hole made in the woman’s forehead. She dropped her arm, her pistol hanging sadly at her side. “Grandmother, what if she had information. What if she knew-”

“She wouldn’t have known anything,” Olenna replied sharply, tucking her pistol into her belt. “Loras, why don’t you cover her with that curtain and we’ll move on.”

Loras blinked up at his grandmother a moment, before untangling himself from the drapes and haphazardly dropped them over the woman. 

“How he’s managed to live so long is a wonder,” Margaery heard her grandmother mutter as she followed her out of the room through the door Olenna had just came, which lead into a hallway, a staircase positioned on one side. 

“Did you find anything?” Margaery asked, trying to put what had just happened behind her. Her grandmother’s only reply was a toss of her a bag. Margaery caught it and pushed through the supplies inside. Rubbing alcohol, painkillers, bandages, some gauze, all good.

“Where do you suggest now?” asked Loras, catching up with them. “I mean, this was our only lead. Certainly we-” 

Olenna held up a hand to quiet him, stopping short in front of a closet door under the stairs. 

Margaery listened hard, but heard nothing. Still, their grandmother’s senses had gotten them this far. She raised her gun, pointing it at the closet, and met her grandmother’s eyes. With a nod from Margaery, Olenna threw open the door. 

They were met with a shriek of surprise. “Please don’t kill me!” Inside was a girl, probably only a few years senior of Margaery. Her dark hair was cut short in a bob. “I wasn’t bit, you can look.” Her eyes flashed from Olenna, to Margaery, to Loras, and then back to Margaery again. “Please, I’ve been stuck in that closet for so long. I just want to live, please,” 

She lowered her gun and instead offered the girl a hand. “What’s your name, dear?” 

The girl furrowed her brow, eyeing Margaery’s hand. “Tara,” she whispered. 

Margaery smiled kindly. “You’ll be safe with us, Tara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne isn't entirely fond of the editions to their group.  
> Rick and Michonne flee Alexandria but run into someone whom may prove to be useful.

Brienne wearily watched from the rear as Jaime led the new couple and their child back to the shack. Podrick came up beside her tugging on her sleeve so she would lean down to hear him. 

“What?” she hissed, her eyes never leaving the man with the crossbow. 

“Do you trust them?” Pod asked, his eyes shifting between her and the rest of the group. 

“I don’t know yet. The woman seems likeable enough… The man a little trigger happy.” At that moment the man’s head turned slightly, jerking back as if he’d heard. Brienne shoed Pod away again. 

After a few minutes they cleared the trees that opened up onto their camp. “This is it?” Asked the man, repositioning his bow on his shoulder. 

“Yes.” Brienne answered simply. 

The man and woman exchanged looks. “Alright,” the woman began, looking between her and Jaime. “Daryl, why don’t you talk with the boy and the young lady inside. I’ll speak with Lannister out here.” 

The man narrowed his eyes at Jaime a moment, before flickering to Brienne. Taking in her height he seemed to agree with the woman’s decision, obviously finding her the larger threat. “Right,” he grunted, motioning for Brienne to come over. “After you, lady.”

“I’m no lady,” she muttered, nodding to Podrick to follow her inside. 

***

“Carl!” Blinded by tears and anger Rick ran through the flames into the house that his family had for a short time called their home.

“Rick, wait!” Michonne called after him, her footsteps pounding up the porch steps behind him. She caught him in the foyer by the sleeve, her eyes locking onto his. “I’ll check downstairs, you go upstairs. It’ll save time.”

He wouldn't argue with that. With a quick nod he hurried into the hall and began taking the stairs two at a time. “Carl!” he barked again, throwing open the first door along the hall. Carol’s room; empty. The next room, Tara’s; empty. Three more rooms, all empty. “Carl!” Rick roared again. “Car-” he gagged, choking on smoke. Again he heard footfalls, and Michonne came into view. 

“He’s not here, Rick,” she yelled. “Come on, we have to go!”

“No! Not without Carl. I’m not leaving without-” 

“Rick, we have to. He’ll find us. He’s a smart kid. He can take care of himself, come ON!” With that she yanked his hand, pulling him to her. As she did a beam overhead gave way, falling in the exact spot he had just been standing. He followed her without another word. 

The streets crawling with walkers and wolves, they opted to go out the back door. Hurrying along the fence line, Michonne pointed out a space they could easy climb. As they reached it Rick ushered her to climb first, before scrambling up and over himself. He fell in a heap behind her. His body ached, and his eyes stung, but above all else he felt heartbroken. He couldn’t believe this was happening _again._ His family had been safe for such a short time and now they were splintered apart again. He’d never felt so helpless, alone… but at least he had Michonne. 

Her hand appeared before him, waiting to help him back to his feet. He took it gratefully, glad for the support. 

“If he was with Enid they might have tried to slip out the back,” said Michonne, drawing her katana. “We can stake out that end for a few hours, and if we don’t find anyone from there we can head north into the capitol. It’s the next obvious route.” 

Rick nodded, still struggling to catch his breath. “If there’s anyway to get back inside,” he choked, struggling to keep pace with her along the fence, “We should try to get back in, raid the armory.”

“You don’t think the wolves have already hit it?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. 

“Point taken. Maybe we should-” Michonne stopped short, holding up a hand to silence him. 

He narrowed his eyes, scanning the forest around them. Taking a few cautious steps forward he leaned in to her. “What is it?” he breathed. 

“We’re being followed,” she murmured back, hardly moving her lips. “Nothing,” she said a bit louder, “Just my imagination, let’s go on.” With that Rick took the lead, both of them moving at a slower pace now, watching and waiting for their stalker to falter. 

However, the pair was caught by surprise by the inevitable twig snap that came, not from behind them, but rather beside them. In a flash, Michonne whirled around her katana striking down, only to match blades with another sword, this one wheeled by a man a few years Rick’s junior. 

“I mean you no harm,” the man stated, smoothly teasing Michonne’s blade down. “I am looking for someone, just as you are, a maid with fair blonde hair. I thought perhaps she’d be drawn to the flames inside and so decided to follow you to a safe entry point.”

“You’re not one of ours,” Michonne growled, sweeping the man’s sword away and crossing protectively in front of Rick. 

“No, you’re quite right. But I’m also not one of the wolves, as I heard you call them,” replied the man, holding Michonne’s gaze. He twirled his sword, making Michonne lurch back defensively, but to their surprise, the man sheathed the weapon, his fingers coming to rest on its hilt, a finely crafted handle shaped to the form of a naked woman that the man’s fingers caressed only too lovingly. 

“This ‘maid’ as you call her,” started Rick, placing a hand on Michonne’s back trying to calm her slightly. “What business is she of yours?” 

The man locked eyes with him, his gaze intense. “She is my whole world.”

As much as Rick’s gut told him he shouldn't trust the man, he couldn’t help but take pity. He could tell by the man’s eyes alone that at least this, what this woman meant to him must be true. Rick knew all too well what it felt like to lose someone that important. He felt that when he lost Lori. Hell, he felt that now, not knowing where Carl was… but he wasn’t lost. He was just… missing.

“What’s your name?” he asked, scratching his cheek. 

The man shifted his weight from one hip to the other. “Daario. Daario Naharis.”

“Well, Daario… We’ll help you find this maid of yours-”

“What?!” Michonne twirled around, her dark eyes wide in surprise, her brow furrowed. 

Rick met her gaze. “We’ll help you,” he continued, “If you in turn help us find my son, my people.” 

The man considered this, stroking his beard. “And what is your name, sir?” he asked, his eyes moving from the police badge on Rick’s chest, to the gun holster at his waist before finding his eyes again. 

“Rick. Rick Grimes.”

He smiled, a gold tooth winking back at Rick in the reflected light from the burning town. “Rick Grimes,” he said, extending a hand. “My sword is yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I have a feeling I'll be apologizing a lot if I continue to promise weekly updates, so instead I will simply promise to do my best at posting again soon. I hope you enjoyed. Thoughts on the groups at hand? The groups to come?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is tested by Carol. Maggie, Glenn, Eugene, and Judith encounter an unlikely savior.

Jaime watched uneasily as the man, Daryl, followed Brienne and Podrick into their shack. It wasn’t that Brienne couldn’t defend herself, he knew all too well that she could. However, it was a known fact that anyone that could last this long in a walker infested world must have had to do unspeakable things to stay alive, and this man seemed just a tad too trigger-happy. 

He turned his attention to the woman. She didn’t seem very threatening… _‘Famous last words.’_ Sauntering over to a nearby tree, Jaime lowered himself to the ground to lean against it. Her calculating eyes followed him. _‘She’s a sharp one. But those eyes are going to be her giveaway.’_

She followed him a few steps, but opted to stand, rather than sit, not willing to drop her guard yet. 

“I believe you have some questions for me?” Jaime asked pleasantly, folding his hands in his lap. 

She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. “How many walkers have you killed?” she asked, taking a step closer. 

He frowned. “Seems a bit arbitrary, doesn’t it?” When she didn’t reply, her icy stare unwavering, he shrugged. “Hundreds I shouldn’t wonder.”

She nodded, and came a bit closer, leaning against the trunk of the tree, her eyes still not straying from him. “How many people have you killed?” She asked this with an accusatory sting to her tone. 

Jaime only flashed her a forced smile. “Before or after the world fell to shit?”

“Cumulatively.” She replied, unsmiling.

Jaime lowered his head, twiddling his thumbs. “More than I’d like to admit,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “Fifteen? Maybe more, maybe less.”

“Why?” Her last question was almost a whisper. 

He looked up at her. Her eyes had finally left him. He could see the exhaustion in her face, the circles under her eyes, and for a moment his heart went out to her. Glancing away again, his gaze fell on the child, sitting alone outside the shack. His head bobbed as he tried to stay awake. “To protect people like you,” he finally answered. “Innocent people, people I love.” He raised his head and locked eyes with her. 

Her expression was hard to read. She was certainly taken aback, but there was something more. A strange sense of understanding seemed to linger in her gaze, but only for a moment. She blinked and it was gone. “Is that what you were feeling when you killed the senator?”

“Yes,” he answered truthfully. “You have no idea. No one did.”

“No one does, still,” she retorted, kicking at the ground. 

“Brienne does.” 

She furrowed her brow. 

“You trust her. I can see it. If you don’t believe me, then ask her.” 

She mulled this over for a moment, before giving a resolute nod. With that she began to cross back to the shack.

“What about you?” he called after her. 

She froze, physically tensing. “What?” she asked, not turning around. 

“How many people have you killed?” Jaime asked curiously. The boy, who’d been dosing before seemed suddenly alert, waiting for her answer arguably more intrigued than Jaime. 

She spun around. He’d expected her to be angry, but that’s not what her expression read. She looked almost broken, worn down. Her jaw set, and her eyes narrowed, flitting over him, she took a moment to answer. 

“More than I can count,” she murmured, before turning again, and crossing back to the shack where she dropped to the ground beside the boy, one of her knees pulled to her chest. 

***

Glenn cursed under his breath as he fell back to help Eugene to his feet _again._ How they’d managed to get stuck with him… Well, it was kind of his own fault, but it couldn’t be helped now. 

“Come on,” he muttered tiredly, taking Eugene’s arm. Maggie waited up ahead, cradling Judith to her chest and keeping watch over the men as they struggled to join her. 

“We should find a place to rest. We can’t go on like this, Glenn,” she muttered as he came to her side, Eugene huffing along behind them. “We’re all exhausted, and Judith’s beginning to get fussy.”

“I know,” Glenn replied, slightly annoyed. “We can’t just drop everything in the middle of the woods though. It’s not safe-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Maggie hissed back. She stopped herself, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know. You’re right. Let’s just… Let’s try to focus on trying to find somewhere, okay?”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You got it.” With that, he turned to make sure Eugene was right behind them, before leading their small group further into the woods. 

After a few minutes Eugene’s labored breathing caught Glenn’s attention. He turned in surprise to find him right by his side. 

“If I might make a suggestion,” he gasped, clutching a stitch in his side. “If we make for due north, we will arrive in the capitol. If I am not mistaken, that is where many of our group will make for, as it was the place we were heading for before we came across Alexandria.” 

As much as Glenn hated to admit it, Eugene was right. “How’re we supposed to figure out which way is north though?” he countered, just wanting to counter something. 

“Moss,” interrupted Maggie, catching his eye as she bounced Judith lightly, trying to calm her whining. She looked from him to Eugene. “Moss grows on the north side of the trees. My dad taught me that when I was a kid, just in case me or Beth got lost in the woods.”

“Right… Moss,” Glenn glanced around. As he began to round a nearby tree, he jumped as Judith let out a long wail. He whirled around to face Maggie, about to lose his temper, when his stomach dropped. Behind her was a group of seven, maybe more walkers. “Shit!” 

Maggie and Eugene turned as he reached for his knife. Judith only wailed louder as Maggie moved behind Glenn, accidentally jostling her as she tried to free her handgun. 

Thus the bloodbath began. Glenn ran forward, plunging his knife deep into the nearest walker’s skull. Eugene bent and picked up a nearby rock, moving forward to beat in another. 

“Save your bullets,” Glenn warned Maggie over his shoulder. 

“I can only save so many,” she hollered back, turning to find more walkers behind her. “Glenn!” 

She fired a shot, taking down one walker, then a second, this one missing and blowing through the thing’s neck. Three more shots and the barrel was empty. “Glenn!” 

All the while Judith cried louder, attracting any and all things in their general vicinity. Then, a gunshot rang out from a short distance away. Glenn turned, hoping to see Rick, maybe Carol. Instead, standing at the top of a small hill beside them was a man he’d never seen. He was a bit short, and very fat, a patchy beard filling out over his thick neck. “Get behind me,” he ordered Maggie. She did so without question. 

The battle went on for a few minutes more, the new edition to their number helping significantly, raging forward, sweat practically pouring from his forehead, as he pulled out a machete and began hacking away at more of the dead. 

And before long, the encounter ended, Glenn taking down the final walker with a swift sweep of his blade. All four of them were quiet for a moment, trying to regain a sense of calm. Judith, however, still wailed away. 

“Thank you,” whispered Glenn breathlessly to the new man, offering him his hand. 

The man was bent double and breathing heavy. He was probably in his early twenties, but horribly out of shape. He smiled and took Glenn’s hand. “It’s no trouble.” he gasped. “I heard the baby, thought you might need a hand.”

“You weren’t wrong,” Glenn laughed. 

“I’m Samwell, Sam if you like.” 

Maggie came to his side, grasping his fat shoulder briefly. “Thank you, Sam.”

He glanced her way, wiping sweat and walker blood from his cheek. “Your baby?” he asked. 

“A friend’s,” she answered, bouncing Judith lightly as she whined. 

“Thought so,” replied Sam. “She’s hungry. Why don’t you come with me. I’m traveling with… well a friend I suppose. She has a baby too. I’m sure she’d be willing to help you.”

Maggie looked excitedly at Glenn. “That’d be great,” she exclaimed. 

Sam smiled, before pointing to Judith. “May I?” 

Glenn glanced uneasily at Maggie. She looked reluctant, but gave a small, faltering smile. “Sure.”

Sam positively beamed as she handed Judith off to him. “Hello there,” he whispered. 

“Judith,” Maggie offered. 

He smiled even wider. “Hello, Judith.” He bounced her lightly and rubbed her back. To the entire group’s amazement, she quieted for the first time since they’d left Alexandria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying the story so far. More updates to come!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this first little glimpse into the fic. I will try to update soon. Every chapter will more than likely be a different group, but as mentioned in the discription this is mainly a Caryl/JB fic.


End file.
